


Painting A Picture

by SMDarling



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bucky calls Steve's pecs "tits", Dirty Talk, Kinktober, Kinktober 2017, M/M, Messy orgasm, PWP, Phone Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, reference to reference photos
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-03
Updated: 2017-10-03
Packaged: 2019-01-08 13:01:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,136
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12254910
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SMDarling/pseuds/SMDarling
Summary: There's one more night before Bucky comes home from a mission, and he has Big Plans for Steve as soon as he gets in.He calls Steve to describe these plans in vivid detail.Steve's just happy to hear Bucky's voice, no matter what they talk about. But even he can admit, he enjoys this conversation.





	Painting A Picture

**Author's Note:**

> [Kinktober 2017](https://kinktober2017.tumblr.com/) day 2, "dirty talk" (which just so happened to happen over the phone). I actually did A Thing two days in a row, wow look at that I am On A Roll ~thumbs up~
> 
> I wasn't sure exactly how to tag this, so if anyone thinks I need to add more tags or make end notes for more specific potential triggers, please let me know! Like yesterday, it didn't go quite as far as I initially planned but I think it went far enough to warrant the Explicit rating this time. Probably? It's a learning process, what can I say lol

"We debrief with Fury tomorrow, then I'll be home."

"So the mission . . . ?"

"Went just fine Steve, like I told you it would. Just information gathering, basic stuff. Nothing to worry about."

"I can't help it Buck," Steve huffs. 

"I know baby," Bucky replies, voice soft. "Now how about you tell me how much trouble you got into having the apartment to yourself for a week?"

"I didn't!"

"Uh-huh baby, sure."

"Really! Sam and I went jogging every morning, I had brunch with Pepper on Sunday. Tony came by a couple times to talk at me about . . ." Steve trails off. 

"About?" Bucky prompts. 

"Y'know," Steve says, switching the phone to his other ear, "I have no idea?" 

Bucky laughs, and Steve grins. 

"You're not actually an idiot Stevie, if you bothered to _listen_ to Stark you'd follow along just fine!"

"But that requires listening to _Stark_!"

They both laugh. 

"You got any plans tonight, Stevie? Last night you have all to yourself," Bucky asks when their chuckling tapers off. 

"Not really. Natasha and Clint are gonna come over in a while, I think they're gonna bring Lucky. Clint wants a movie night and I think Natasha wants to make sure I'm not wallowing without you."

"You're not wallowing without me are you?" Bucky's voice is suddenly more serious.

"I'm not gonna lie, I miss you. And there've been a couple nights I've woken up and just . . . Really wished you were here. But I think that's normal? I haven't been sitting around staring out the window thinking of you 24/7 if that's what you're asking," Steve answers, just as serious.

"You sure?"

"Yeah Buck, I'm sure. I even . . ."

"You even what?"

"I went in an art store yesterday, got a few things."

"Really?!" Bucky demands.

"Yes, jeez, it's not a big deal!" Steve says, defensive. 

"It's another step forward to reclaiming yourself Steve," Bucky says. "Art has always been part of you, part of who Steve Rogers is. And I know Steve Rogers lost a lot of himself to Captain America, but he's not Captain America anymore. It's about time Steve starts coming back." 

Steve blushes, and flops back on the couch. 

"It's really not that big of a deal," he insists, but softer, shy instead of combative. 

"It is to me Stevie. And even if you don't think it's a big deal," Bucky says quietly, "I'm proud of you for it."

"Thanks Buck," Steve whispers back. 

They sit in silence for a few minutes, breathing on the phone together, content in just the awareness of each other, distant in space but equally alive. 

"If you want," Bucky starts, "I can try to . . . paint you a picture. To hold you over til I get back."

"What?" Steve asks, confused. 

"Y'know, with words. I can tell you what I plan to do once I get home, let you imagine it, until I actually get there."

"Oh-kay," Steve says slowly, still not sure exactly what Bucky means but willing to play along.

"Well first, before I get there, you should make sure to take a nice long, hot shower. Take your time soaping up all those big muscles of yours. Be very thorough, you understand me Stevie?" 

"Ohhkay," Steve says again, voice rising an octave. He's starting to get the picture. 

"Once you're done with your shower, and all dried off, no need to really get dressed or anything, maybe just put on that big fluffy robe Miss Potts got you as a house-warming present."

"I can probably do that, yeah." Steve settles further into the couch, stretching his legs out in front of him and leaning his head back. He closes his eyes so he can better focus on Bucky's voice.

"And when I get home, I'll come in the door and you'll be waiting for me won't you?"

"Always Buck."

"And I'll find you, wherever you are, maybe come up behind you and put my arms around your waist. Crawl into bed next to you, or sit on the couch, and just wrap you and your fluffy robe up in my arms."

"Will you kiss me?" Steve asks. 

"Will I kiss you? Of course I'll kiss you Stevie! I'll turn your head to face me, and I'll kiss you, slow and sweet at first, then make you open that pretty mouth of yours to let me in.

"And I'll keep kissing you, biting your lips, sucking on your tongue, just _devouring_ you, until you're shakin' in my arms."

Bucky's voice grows steadily deeper with each word, and Steve feels wrapped up in him already. 

"And then?" he prompts. 

"I'll lay you down, Stevie, wherever we are. If you're in the kitchen, I'll set you down on the floor. Or spread you out on the couch, or push you back to the center of the bed. 

"And I'll be down right with you, next to you or on top of you, peeling that bathrobe off of you, making sure you're comfortable."

"You still got your clothes on?" 

"Yeah, my uniform's still on, I still got all my knives and guns on me, but I got you naked underneath me and that's the most important part."

Steve shudders at the image, Bucky towering over him, dressed head to toe in his black tactical gear, caging Steve's vulnerable, naked body in under all the power and danger and strength of the Winter Soldier. 

"And I'm not done kissin' you either," Bucky continues. "I'm just movin' targets sweetheart, kissin' on your jaw and your cheeks and over your gorgeous baby blues. I'm gonna eat you up babydoll, and you're just gonna lay back and let me."

"Anything Bucky, keep going." Steve shifts, feeling his cock pulsing in his jeans. He's not fully hard yet, but the first waves of arousal are washing over him, fingers and toes tingling with it, like all his nerves are coming back to life.

"I'll move to your neck, your pulse. I'll feel your blood beating, faster and faster under my lips, and maybe I'll even bite down, suck a little, not too much, just enough to leave a mark. 

"It'll fade," Steve whines. The serum saved his life, sure, but he sometimes wishes - and Bucky knows it - that it wasn't quite so good. He'd love to wear Bucky's love bites, to look in the mirror the morning after a night of love-making, and see Bucky's marks on himself. 

He belongs to Bucky, and everyone they care about already knows, but he'd love to have proof of it to show the world wherever he goes, even just to the bodega down the street when they run out of orange juice. 

"Then I'll just have to keep doin' it over and over, won't I?" 

Steve moans in response, finally palming his cock through his pants.

"Yeah Stevie, and I'll get you moaning just like that in my ear, and keep going. And while my mouth is busy, I'll be puttin' my hands on you too, gotta get a little something for myself don't I?"

"Yeah, yes Bucky, where? Where will you . . .?"

"Those perfect handfuls you got on your chest babydoll, where else? I'll squeeze 'em, push 'em together, make some nice cleavage although I don't really need to do anything, you got enough cleavage without my help." 

"Bucky!"

"And you'll be sayin' my name, just like that, when I run my fingers over your nipples, scratch a little, pinch and pull on 'em til they're hard and red for me, and you'll love it I promise Stevie." Bucky's starting to talk a little bit faster now, and Steve can hear some rustling over the phone. 

"You can do it, if you want," Bucky says.

"What?"

"Play with your tits, you don't gotta save it all for me."

"Jesus Buck!" Steve says, fully hard and blushing down to his chest. 

"I'm doing it now Stevie, got my left hand running over myself, and I ain't got nothin' on you, and I'm not as sensitive besides, but oh thinking about you, it still feels good."

Steve groans, sitting up quickly to yank his shirt over his head and toss it somewhere in the living room. 

"You doin' it? Playin' with your tits for me?"

"Yeah Bucky, I am," Steve tells him. He's tracing his free hand lightly over himself, outlining his pecs with just his fingertips.

"Tell me, what're you doing Steve?"

"I'm, god Bucky, what you said."

"What'd I say again?"

Steve's face feels like it's on fire. He's no virgin, hasn't been for longer than anyone in the 21st Century is willing to believe, and he's been listening to Bucky talk like this since way back then. But talking himself, even 70 years later, always makes him squirm and blush and stutter like a teenager. 

"I'm, like you said, squeezing my, uh."

"Your what?" Bucky prompts, his voice almost a growl. 

"My tits Buck, _god_ I'm groping my tits for you!"

"Fuck yeah Stevie, get yourself a nice big handful. You understand why I call them tits?"

"Yeah I do Bucky, jeez--"

"Cuz they're so big and bouncy and so soft to the touch, and your nipples always pebble up, so sensitive, just like a dame's," Bucky interrupts him. "And I love it Steve, getting my hands on 'em, getting my mouth on 'em, I'll do that next, always just gotta _sink my teeth into you_ babydoll." 

"Bucky!" Steve cries out, arching up into his hand where he's pinching his nipple, really digging his nails in, and it's not the same as Bucky's teeth but with Bucky's voice in his ear it's still _so good_.

"Yeah Stevie, I'm here, and tomorrow night I'll be there and I'll just take my time worshiping your pretty, perky, _perfect_ titties.

"Really get 'em wet, and red from where I haven't shaved all week, and I'll leave you some marks there too, deeper ones, ones that won't fade so fast."

"Please Bucky," Steve whimpers.

"And once I'm properly reacquainted with your tits, I'll have to move and spend some time reintroducing myself to another of my favorite parts of you."

"Which part Buck?" Steve says when Bucky doesn't immediately continue. They're both breathing heavily into the phone at this point, and Steve shivers as he thinks he hears . . . 

"Your cock Stevie. I'll take it in my hand, real gentle--"

"Are you doing that to yourself too?" Steve asks. 

The slick sounds Steve thought he was hearing pause for a minute, before Bucky laughs and the noises resume.

"Yeah, just like I'm doing to myself. Wrap my hand around the base, and it's so thick I can barely get my fingers all the way around but that's okay, that's just how I like it and you know I love it babydoll, I'm the luckiest guy in all of Brooklyn when I got your cock in my hand, big and thick and rock hard _all for me_ , mmmm," Bucky moans low, the sound reverberating in the back of his throat and through the phone, making Steve move frantically to remove his belt. 

"I'll run my thumb up the vein on the underside so I can feel how much you like it by the way it pulses and jerks in my hand, _yeah_ I wanna see you gettin' wet, you'll do that for me wontcha babydoll?"

Steve's cock acts as if Bucky's actually touching him, and he scrambles to unbutton his jeans as he feels precome begin to leak from his tip. 

" _I am Buck_ , I'm gettin' all wet for you," he gasps out, almost whimpering with relief as his cock is finally freed from the constraints of his boxer briefs.

"Of course, I'll have to get a taste of that too won't I?" Bucky goes on, voice deep and dark and sending shivers up and down Steve's spine.

Steve takes himself in hand, hips jerking up of their own accord at the sensation in tandem with Bucky's voice. 

"I'll start out with just a taste, can't be too greedy too fast, just get my tongue on it, lick up your precome, suck it direct from your leaking slit, taking from the source and I just _know_ I'll be tasting the nectar of the gods baby," Bucky continues, upping his story's pace and Steve thinks he's probably jacking himself faster too. 

"That's, Bucky, no one's junk tastes that good," Steve protests, trying to match the rhythm of his hand stroking over himself to what he can hear Bucky doing over the phone. 

" _You do_ ," Bucky insists, "and once I get a little taste, I don't think I'll be able to stop myself Stevie. I'll need more, and more, and more and I'll just have to take you in my mouth _completely_."

The image of Bucky between his legs, wet pink lips, stretching wide around and pressing flush to the root of his cock, eyes still sharp and alert staring up at Steve even as they start to water from the pressure of his cock in Bucky's throat, blossoms bright in Steve's mind. 

" _Gah_ , Bucky!"

"Yeah, that's exactly what you'll say when your cock hits the back of my throat, and I'll have to hold your hips down so I can just take what I want from you," Bucky growls. 

"I'll suck you so good Stevie, your eyes'll roll back in your head, but I won't let you move. Make no mistake though, babydoll, I'll get what I want. You _will_ give it to me!"

Steve moans wantonly, hand stripping himself faster and faster. It isn't Bucky's mouth, or even his hand or in any way comparable, but the scene Bucky's painting for him is vivid and truth be told, he hasn't had much interest in jacking off while Bucky's been away. His balls are full and heavy from days with no release, and now they're drawing up fast. 

"Bucky, I think I'm gonna come!" he half shouts into the phone.

"Do it Stevie, shoot your load straight down my throat," Bucky commands. It's obvious from the way he's panting, and the speed Steve can hear Bucky stroking himself with, that Bucky is just as close.

The thought of Bucky, sitting back on some low budget hotel room bed, cock out in his - in his metal hand, _oh god_ \- 

Steve's abdomen clenches, his balls draw up, and his orgasm hits him with enough force he feels semen splash on his chin. 

He starts out moaning softly, but his balls keep contracting and his cock keeps pulsing, and especially when Bucky says "that's it baby, let me hear you," he just keeps coming, until he's wailing with it. 

The panting and sound of skin on skin on the other end of the phone gets faster and faster until it stops completely, and Bucky grunts with his own orgasm. Steve, still shuddering with aftershocks, flinches as his balls force a final few drops of semen from his cock in tandem with Bucky's climax. 

They catch their breath together for a few minutes, not saying anything, just basking in afterglow and the other's presence. 

"I hope you don't think that's all I'm gonna do to you tomorrow night punk," Bucky says once he's caught his breath. 

"God," Steve groans. 

"You're gonna have to really work to make it better than that, jerk," he teases.

"That good?" Bucky asks, and Steve doesn't even have to try to picture the exact expression on Bucky's face. The smirk, relaxed and open and lazy, is clear in Bucky's voice. It's the expression Steve's woken up to after countless orgasms since the 30s. The image is branded into his mind, his existence, rendered in perfect loving exact detail in Steve's brain, indifferent to and unchanging from all the other changes Bucky's been through. 

"I got come on my chin Buck," Steve says, choosing to move away from such a potentially nostalgic train of thought. 

And it takes a second, but Bucky bursts out laughing, un-selfconscious and loud.

"You should take a picture!" he says.

"Maybe I will," Steve retorts. 

Bucky's laughter cuts off abruptly. "Really?" he asks.

Steve considers, then mentally shrugs. They've had phone sex once or twice, and sexted a couple more times than that, but they've never sent pictures.

"As long as I get one back," he tells Bucky.

"Anything you want, baby." Bucky's voice has gone low again, and Steve's cock twitches where he finally let it go against his open fly. 

"What I want is for you to be home," Steve says before he can stop himself. 

"Aw Stevie," Bucky replies softly, voice tender now. "I'm almost home, just one more night, I promise."

"I know Buck," Steve says, just as tenderly. "I don't know why I said that, I just . . . "

"I miss you too. You know that right? I've thought about you every night I've been out here too," Bucky whispers. 

Steve sighs, tired all of a sudden from more than just his orgasm. 

"Yeah Bucky. I just wish you didn't--"

"Steve," Bucky interrupts him, voice still gentle. "You know I have to."

"Yeah," Steve agrees. 

The silence this time is different, filled with their mutual longing for each other. 

Finally, Steve glances at the clock. 

"Shit! Natasha and Clint are gonna be here in 10 minutes! I'm covered in jizz, I gotta clean up!"

Bucky bursts out laughing again, and Steve can't help grinning at the floor from where he sat up abruptly. 

"Send me that picture first!" Bucky tells him, and Steve flops back down.

"Fine," he says, "but you send yours too!"

"Oh I will punk, don't worry about that," Bucky says, growling playfully.

"Jerk," Steve says back on automatic, then "I love you."

"Love you too," Bucky tells him, "and hey, Steve?"

"Yeah?"

"Maybe you can use those art supplies you got today to paint _me_ a picture of how _you_ want tomorrow night to go," Bucky says before hanging up.

"Jerk," Steve repeats, pulling the phone away from his ear. He opens the camera app, switches to selfie mode, and even though he's covered in his own spunk and is trying to take a sexy picture for Bucky, he can't stop his sappy smile (not that he tries very hard, if he's being honest with himself). 

He sends the pic anyway, just as his phone beeps to alert him of a new message. 

As he clicks to download image, he glances over to the bags of art supplies he got earlier. He looks back to his phone as it loads the picture from Bucky, thinking about how long it's been since he's drawn or painted anything. 

The picture finally loads, and Steve wastes another minute staring at it. 

He really is becoming Steve Rogers again, he thinks. Bucky's right - Steve always was an artist. 

And every artist needs a good reference photo.

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me [on Tumblr](http://smdarling.tumblr.com/) where I pretend badly to be a human being by reblogging 99% of everything on my Tumblr with no commentary (except occasional rants in the tags). I am trying to start interacting more though, which hey incidentally, this is part of that! If you want, you can also [reblog it here](http://smdarling.tumblr.com/post/166001299910/painting-a-picture-smdarling-marvel-cinematic) HA I DID LINK THING
> 
> Hearts and butterflies and all that jazz etc, hashtagsmileyface  
> ~ Darling


End file.
